


forever and always

by toes-ier (snowglobegays)



Series: songfics [4]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Car Accidents, F/M, Future Fic, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Songfic, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13289844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowglobegays/pseuds/toes-ier
Summary: Bill is late coming home.-I want you foreverForever and alwaysThrough the good and the bad and the ugly





	forever and always

**Author's Note:**

> for AJ, based on Forever and Always by Parachute
> 
> alright this fic turned Much Longer than i expected,,, so sorry for medical inaccuracies i got all my medical/hospital knowledge from Scrubs, my friend who wants to be a doctor, my beta paige, and some light googling, so there is Bound to be wrong stuff but i dont think it matters that much.
> 
> btw theyre like 25 so bill's stutter is p much gone 
> 
> ships other than wheelbrough and reddie only mentioned.

Bill was late.

 

Which, honestly, it was fine. Bill was always late. It would have been more worrying if he were on time.

 

Except he was nearing on _too_ late, and Mike was growing concerned. They had made movie plans for once Bill was off work, and if he took any longer to get home they’d miss the showing they chose. Mike wouldn’t be angry; he’d accept any excuse Bill threw his way, because he understood how Bill lost time. But it wasn’t _like_ Bill to actually miss something. He’d be fashionably late, not ditch an activity altogether.

 

So, Bill was late, and Mike was worried.

 

Mike tried calling him. No answer.

 

He sat on the couch flicking through random channels, not wanting to start a show or movie he couldn’t finish, but after minutes ticked by without the familiar sound of Bill’s car crunching up the gravel in their driveway he settled on pulling up Netflix and watching _Friends_. He didn’t end up paying much attention to it.

 

One episode. Two episodes. Their movie showing started. Three episodes.

 

Mike began pacing. He texted the group chat with himself, Richie, Stan, Mike Hanlon, Ben, Beverly, and Eddie in it.

 

 **Mike W-** _Hey, have and of you heard from Bill tonight?_ _He’s really late._

 **Richie-** _No, I haven't seen him. But you know how he is, man_

 **Eddie-** _Yeah, he’s probably just caught up with something at work_

 **Ben-** _He’s got that big due date soon, right? I wouldn’t stress over it._

 **Mike W-** _Thanks, you guys are probably right._

 **Beverly-** _Text us when he gets home anyway <3 _

**Mike W-** _Will do :)_

 

He took a deep breath, and called Bill again. Still, no response.

 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself.

 

Mike really didn’t like when people never showed up. Will had never shown up to school, Eleven hadn’t shown up _anywhere_ for nearly a year. His biggest heartbreaks were because of people never coming home. Whenever someone was _really_ late, he got extremely anxious; heart speeding, breath quickening, hands shaking. Bill knew how he felt- he would never be this late without telling someone, if not Mike himself.

 

_Shut up with your worrying, Mike, not everyone who is late is missing._

 

One more unsuccessful call put tears in Mike’s eyes, so he called Will.

 

“Mike?” Will answered. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a movie?”

 

“He’s late,” Mike said thickly, almost embarrassed at the emotion in his voice. “Nobody has heard from him.”

 

Will sucked in a breath. “How late is he?”

 

“He was supposed to be home at seven,” Mike sniffed. “It’s almost nine.”

 

“Oh shit.” Will murmured. “And you’ve called him?”

 

Mike nodded. “Yeah,” he choked out. “It keeps going straight to voicemail.”

 

“Well, maybe his phone is dead and he had to stay late!” Will offered. “Or maybe it’s because it’s raining pretty hard, so there’s probably lots of traffic. I’d say his phone is dead and he got caught up at work, or in traffic, or maybe both!”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Mike sighed, rubbing his face.

 

“Me too, Mike. Text me when you hear from him, alright? I have to go or my dinner will burn, but I love you and he’s going to be okay,” Will said affirmatively.

 

“I will. Thanks, Will.” Mike hung up and groaned.

 

None of his friends were any help.

 

He focused on the TV for a few more minutes, watching with lazy eyes, slumped on the couch, before flopping over and closing his eyes. He could use a few minutes of rest before Bill got home.

 

Ten minutes later, a sudden, shrill ringing of his phone made him jump. Mike stretched as he sat up and squinted at the unknown number displayed on his screen before answering. “Hello?”

 

A female voice greeted him. “Is this Mike Wheeler?”

 

“This is he,” Mike said weakly. “May I ask who this is?”

 

“Hi, I’m Jenny Reid from Baptist Memorial Hospital, and I’m calling on behalf of Bill Denbrough. He’s currently at Baptist Memorial, and we request that you-”

 

White noise.

 

_Jenny Reid. Bill Denbrough. Baptist Memorial Hospital. Hospital. Hospital._

 

_Hospital._

 

“Sir? Are you able to come down?” Jenny Reid asked.

 

“Yeah,” Mike said vacantly. “I’m… yeah, I can come. What did you say happened?”

 

“We wait to tell emergency contacts what happened until arrival, I’m sorry,” she apologized.

 

“That’s fair.” Mike swallowed. “But is he… is he… you know…” He trailed off.

 

“He’s still with us, Mr. Wheeler. Please come to Baptist Memorial Hospital. Thank you.” She hung up with a soft _click_.

 

Mike moved in a daze. He vaguely registered picking up his coat, his wallet, his keys, and clutching his phone in a white knuckled grip. A voice in the back of his mind said that he wasn’t in the right headspace to drive, but what else could he do? Wait for a taxi? None of his friends would be stable enough at the news that Bill was in the _fucking hospital_ to drive either. The fastest way to get to BIll was to drive.

 

A street light caught on Mike’s left hand. The ring felt heavy, like an unfulfilled promise, like a life almost lived.

 

_He’s still with us._

 

Mike thought back to the open tabs on their computer- of venues, flowers, menus, suits- that could be all for naught. Maybe the ring Bill had spent weeks deciding on would be for nothing. Maybe the memory of how the Christmas lights reflected in Bill’s eyes as he knelt beside their tree wile snow piled up on their window and the fire roared behind him would end up a faint echo of a happiness he once felt.

 

 _“I want you forever, forever and always, through the good and the bad and the ugly, we'll grow old together. You’re all I want for the rest of my life, Mike. Will you marry me?”_  
  
_“I would do anything for you, Bill Denbrough.”_  
  
_“So that’s a yes?”_  
_  
_ “Of course it’s a yes.”

 

They had kissed under mistletoe and slow danced to old Christmas music until the early hours of the morning, before piling into their car to see friends and family and to show off their fresh engagement.

 

That was three months ago. Every time Bill saw the ring, he’d smile, big and goofy, and pull Mike into the sweetest embrace. Every time Mike examined the ring, his heart sped up and his whole body warmed. They couldn’t wait to get married.

 

If they still could.

 

_He’s still with us._

 

The hospital was unfairly beautiful inside. Mike ignored the countless amount of pictures and intricate arrangements of roses and peonies as he dashed to the desk, slamming his hands to the surface. His ring made a noticeable _clink_.

 

“I’m Mike Wheeler. I’m here for Bill Denbrough,” he said breathlessly. “Bill Denbrough, I can spell it, B-I-L-L D-E-N-”

 

“Bill Denbrough, yes, I have him,” the receptionist interrupted with a soft smile. “Can I see your ID and insurance card please?”

 

Mike fumbled with his wallet and accidentally opened it upside down. Everything spilled out onto shiny linoleum. “Shit,” he muttered, “One second.”

 

A middle aged woman walked over from her seat in the corner to help him. “Let me help, darling,” she said kindly, and knelt down next to him. “I do hope your person is alright.” She held out his ID and insurance card. “Here you go.”

 

“Th-thanks” he stuttered, before jumping to his feet and presenting the card to the receptionist. “Here. I’m Mike Wheeler, now what happened to him I don’t even _know_ nobody would tell me anything, and-”

 

“We have some paperwork you need to fill out first. It says here that Mr. Denbrough is currently in surgery, so you have time,” the receptionist interrupted again, before arranging a stack of papers and handing it to Mike, who took said papers over to a chair by the wall and immediately slumped into it.

 

The kind lady from earlier handed him the rest of what fell from his wallet and patted his shoulder. “Good luck, sweetie.” She smiled warmly, and returned to her seat.

 

Mike gulped. “Thanks,” he called out weakly.

 

He spent nearly twenty minutes flipping through papers, writing down insurance details and allergies and preexisting conditions. It was draining, mentally and emotionally.

 

When he finished and took the papers back up to the receptionist, she smiled kindly at him and pointed him towards a short nurse waiting a few feet from the desk. “Nurse Roberts will show you to the family waiting room.”

 

She led him through the winding, brightly lit hallways of the hospital. It was like a maze, a never ending maze of anxiety and loss.

 

Eventually, they arrived. Not to a room, no, but to a different area, smaller, but full of waiting families, and an impending, dark hallway attached to the opposite wall. “Where’s Bill?” Mike questioned.

 

“He came in as an emergency patient,” Nurse Roberts told him calmly. “He’s currently in surgery, and some of our best surgeons are working to keep him alive. This is where you’ll wait until he’s out.”

 

“Can I...” Mike swallowed. “Is there a way I can see him?” He asked weakly.

 

Nurse Roberts flipped through her clipboard. “Actually, yes! He’s in OR three, which is one with a viewing area where families or students can watch surgery. Would you like me to take you?”

 

Mike could only nod furiously.

 

He was led into the dark hallway, passing a handful of locked wooden doors, before reaching a door with a sign reading _Viewing Platform 3_. “This is it, Mr. Wheeler,” Nurse Roberts said, and opened the door.

 

There was a large, reinforced glass window set above a bustling operation room. On the table was Bill, bruised, bloody, _broken_.

 

“What… what’s wrong with him?” he croaked.

 

Nurse Roberts sighed. “You’ll have to wait for the head surgeon to answer that. Since he’s an emergency patient, he had to be rushed into immediate surgery, and there isn’t a chart with all his injuries yet. All I know is that he was hit head on by a skidding car.”

 

Mike was too afraid to ask about the other driver.

 

“Do you know his chances, though? He looks so bad.” Mike’s voice wavered, dangerously close to tears. “Give it to me straight. Do you know? What his chances are?

 

“I think,” Nurse Roberts sighed again, “at this point, it could go either way.” She hesitantly patted his arm. “Would you like to stay watching or go back to the waiting room?”

 

Mike stayed silent. He stepped closer so he was inches from the glass, and pressed his hand onto the cold surface. He watched the doctors’ delicate movements as they held Bill’s life in their hands. He saw Bill’s face, his closed eyes, his relaxed expression, his parted lips, and the dam opened. Tears poured down Mike’s cheeks, and he looked away.

 

“I want to go back.”

 

“Alright then.” Nurse Roberts smiled sadly. “How about we head back to the waiting room, and you can call any family or friends, alright?”

 

Mike felt weak at the thought of telling anyone what had happened.

_I can’t tell them._

 

_I have to tell them._

 

The waiting room only had a handful of open seats available. It unsettled Mike, how many people were waiting for their loved ones who were on the brink of life and death. Knowing Bill could _die_ felt like the world ending; and every single person in the room likely felt the same. It really put life into perspective. Everyone was going through something. Mike hoped they’d all get good news.

 

He called Will first.

 

Will answered with, “I’m assuming this is you telling me you found Bill?”

 

Mike sniffed loudly in response.

 

“Oh shit,” Will whispered. “Have you not found him?”

 

“I found him,” Mike said. His throat was closing up. The situation grew so much more real, explaining it to Will. “I found him when… when the hospital called and said he’s in surgery.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

 

There was a loud crash on Will’s end. “What the _hell!_ ” he gasped. “What happened?”

 

Mike wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Car accident.”

 

“Is he alright? You said… surgery?”

 

“He’s... “  Mike let out a soft sob. “He doesn’t look good at all, Will. He’s all _broken_ and there were so many doctors and the nurse said it could go either way and I don’t even know anything that’s wrong with him because the nurse I talked to didn’t know either.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m all alone.”

 

Then there was the unmistakable sound of a car starting. “You won’t be alone for very much longer,” Will promised. “Have you told any of the others?”

 

“No,” Mike cried softly. “Just you.”

 

“I’ll call them, alright? I’ll call them and pick up whoever I can. We’re on the way, Mike.” Will sounded close to tears himself. “I’m on the way.”

 

“Thank you, Will.”

 

“Of course. I have to hang up to call the others, okay? I’m hanging up now.”

 

“Okay. Thank you.”

 

“Bye, Mike. See you soon. We’ll be there soon.”

 

Then he hung up, and Mike was alone. 

 

Mike held his phone against his cheek for a minute after the call ended. He felt crushing guilt surround him; Will had to break the news to _six people_ of their best friend’s unstable condition. Of his possible death. Normally, Mike would never let anyone take on a burden he could bear, but in this moment… the thought of repeating what he’d said to Will made him physically nauseous. He had to let someone else take control.

 

The minutes ticked by slowly. Mike resorted to fiddling with his engagement ring, twisting it around his finger.

 

It was a gorgeous ring. Bill knew that Mike preferred simple over garish, and chose a dark silver band with a pale, iridescent blue stone that was nearly the same color as Bill’s eyes. Mike loved it.

 

_At this point, it could go either way._

 

Mike feared a future where the ring brought him sorrow rather than joy.

 

Mikes’ head snapped up when Richie and Eddie burst through the door, tripped over each other, and landed in a heap. Mike would have laughed, but he couldn’t even muster a smile.

 

Stan, Mike Hanlon, Beverly, Ben, and Will rushed in behind the fallen couple. Will was the first to spot Mike.

 

“Hey!” he called, stepping over Eddie and barrelling into Mike as he stood up. “Have you heard anything new?”

 

Mike clutched Will like a lifeline. “Nothing new,” he said. “I’ve just been sitting here.”

 

“Mike!” Beverly rushed to his side and joined the hug. “How is he?”

 

“I don’t know. No new news,” Mike repeated, stepping back. “I haven’t heard anything.”

 

Everyone sat on the nearest empty chairs, and when Beverly and Stan were left without a place to sit they chose the ground in front of Mike, each leaning on one of his legs. Seconds felt like hours as they sat in the crowded waiting room. Every now and then, a doctor would stand in the front of the room, and there would be a moment of bated breath before a name was called out. Half a dozen names, and still no Bill. To Mike, the long wait did not bode well.

 

Eventually, Nurse Roberts walked up to Mike and said, “There’s a more private waiting room down the hall. It’s used for families of those undergoing lengthier surgeries. Mr. Denbrough isn't expected out anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

 

So, they were escorted down the same dark hallway that had led to Bill’s room, but passed it and walked to a smaller, emptier room. One other family sat to the side; two older women and a man about Mike’s age. He wondered who they were waiting for, but didn’t ask.

 

Even though there were more than enough seats for all of them, Stan and Beverly sat on the floor in front of Mike again. He thought that maybe the closeness was comforting to them, or that they were doing it for him. Either way, Beverly’s head resting on his knee and Stan’s warm weight against his calf held Mike down. He appreciated them.

 

“Do you think his parents will want to know?” Ben asked suddenly, quietly, from Mike’s left. The family across the room didn’t even look up.

 

Mike sighed a deep heave. “I don’t know. They haven’t talked to us in months. Bill called to tell them… to tell them that we’re engaged,” his voice cracked on _engaged_ , “and they never answered, never called back. We can let Bill decide if we should call them.”

 

The unspoken _if he survives this_ hung heavy in the air.

 

“Have you told _your_ mom?” Ben offered. “I’m sure she’d like to know. Or at least Nancy.”

 

Mike raked shaking fingers through his hair. “You’re right, I should… I should call her. My mom. Then Nancy. Yeah.” He pulled out his phone and immediately dropped it. “God,” he muttered to himself. “I keep _dropping_ shit today.”

  
Stan held it up to him. “One of us could call, if you’d prefer.”

 

“No,” Mike shook his head. “I should do it.”

 

When Mike turned on his phone, he was hit with a wave of emotion. There on his lockscreen was Bill, laughing at something (Richie) in fading sunlight. A golden halo surrounded his body, his squinted eyes sparkled; his whole being was so _radiant_. Eddie squeezed Mike’s arm when he saw the picture, and Mike had to quickly unlock his phone to keep tears from falling. Of course, his home screen was also of Bill: him and Mike on vacation in Disneyland, wearing matching Mickey Mouse ears and holding two big ice cream cones. Mike stared at the picture so long that the screen turned black.

 

Eddie pulled the phone out of his shaking hands. “What’s your password?” he asked gently.

 

“Bill’s birthday,” Mike choked out. A few tears leaked out and dropped into Beverly’s hair. She just reached up and gripped one of Mike’s hands. Mike Hanlon his his face in Richie’s side. His shoulders shook. Mike closed his eyes.

 

“Hi Mrs. Wheeler, this is Eddie Kaspbrak,” Mike heard Eddie say softly. They were still pressed against each other. “Yes, I know this is Mike’s phone. There’s been… Bill’s been in an accident. I think it could go either way right now. He’s in surgery.” There was a pause. “Mike’s pretty shaken up. He wanted to call you but he’s not in the best shape right now.” Another pause. Eddie turned to Mike. “Do you want to talk to her?” Mike nodded, and Eddie passed the phone over.  

 

“Hi Mom,” Mike rasped.

 

“Oh, Michael,” she said sadly. “How are you?”

 

“I’m…” he realized he didn't know the answer. “I don’t know, Mom. They said… the doctors said anything could happen. Mom, he looked so bad.” Mike swallowed a sob. “He looked _so bad._ ”

 

“Did you get to see him?” Karen asked.

 

Mike sniffed wetly. “Yeah, I got to see him for a minute but I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay for long because there was so much… he was so broken.”

 

She hummed sadly. “Do you know all his injuries?”

 

“His injuries?” Mike wiped his nose. Everyone around him perked up slightly, and he realized he only told Will that he didn’t know any details. “The nurse couldn’t say. I won’t know anything until he’s done but Mom… Mom it was so bad. I wish I hadn’t seen him, he looked so gone.”

 

All his friends deflated. Stan curled into a ball.

 

“I’ll come down tomorrow, alright? Holly’s on spring break right now so we’ll both come visit, okay? Do you want me to tell your father?”

 

“Do you think he’ll care?” Mike asked. “You can try. I don’t care either way. Just…” he paused to take a breath and stop his trembling lip. “Just come here. I miss you.”

 

“I miss you too, Michael. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hey.” She waited for him to hum with acknowledgement. “He’ll be alright, you hear me? Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“Thanks Mom. I’m gonna call Nance now… I want her to know.”

 

“Okay, sweetie. Don’t hesitate to call again with any news, or even to just talk. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

 

“See you tomorrow.”

 

Somehow, even with seven bodies crowded around Mike, the absence of his mother on the phone made him feel impossibly lonely.

 

A doctor poked her head into the room and called the other family. The man shot a sympathetic look toward Mike as he left, and the two women waved soft goodbyes. Mike hoped they would get good news.

 

“Do you want me to call Nancy too?” Eddie asked softly.

 

“No, I can actually do it this time.” Mike tried for a small smile, but his mouth only twitched. He sighed.

 

Nancy almost didn’t pick up. “It’s like, one in the morning for me Mike. Why are you calling?”

 

Mike’s throat closed up and he only let out a wheeze.

 

_No, I can actually do it this time._

 

He coughed, and tried again. “Hey, Nance,” he whispered. “There’s… something’s happened.”

 

“What?” she snapped, sounding much more alert. “What happened? Are you okay? Is Bill okay?”

 

“I’m okay,” Mike managed. “But…” He exhaled heavily.

 

“Bill’s not,” she finished softly. “What happened?”

 

“There was an accident. He got hit… head on, and he’s in surgery right now. Nurse said it could go either way.”

 

“Oh no… Shit, that’s no good,” she cursed. “How are you, though? Were you in the car too?”

 

“No no, I was just… at home. I’m… I don’t really know how I am, honestly, Nancy. I’ve got everyone with me right now, and Mom and Holly are coming down to stay with me tomorrow, but I don’t know if he’s gonna make it or not. I don’t… know…” He trailed off into hiccuping tears. “ _I don’t know._ ”

 

“Hey, hey,” Nancy said frantically. “I think I could come down tomorrow, too, if you’d like! I’m sure I can get off work, or get my shift covered, and I can come see you and Bill, alright?”

 

“Please.” Mike’s voice cracked pathetically. “Please.”

 

“Okay, I will.” There was a shuffling on her end. “Hey, I gotta go right now, but I’m coming tomorrow. It’s okay, Mike.”

 

_It’s okay._

_Everything’s going to be fine._

_He’s going to be alright._

_No news._

_At this point, it could go either way._

_I do hope your person is alright._

_He’s still with us._

_Hospital._

_He’s late._

 

Mike clenched his fists and held them against his temple as he dragged in raggedy, harsh breaths. Pale hands reached for him, but he stood suddenly, and stalked to an empty wall and squatted against it. Everyone but Will stayed back.

“Do you want some air?” Will asked softly. “I can hold the door, if you want.”

 

Mike shook his head. “I just want Bill,” he said miserably. “I just want Bill.”

 

“He’ll be out soon,” Will tried, but his effort at comfort was weak. “He’ll be out, and he’ll be alright.”

 

Mike didn’t respond, so Will stayed quiet and walked back to his seat. Nobody took Mike’s vacant spot.

 

Twenty minutes later, a doctor stood at the front of the room, holding a clipboard. “Bill Denbrough?”

 

And Mike _leapt_ up, moving faster than he had ever before. “Bill Denbrough!” he repeated. “I’m his fiance.”

 

The doctor smiled. She was short, and wore green scrubs under her white coat. A mask was pulled under her chin, and a cap held back her hair. “Hi. I’m his head surgeon, Dr. Dorian. He’s out of surgery now. I want to talk to you about all his injuries, and then you can come to his room.”

 

Mike bit at his nails. “What all happened?”

 

Dr. Dorian glanced at the crowd of people watching them with hawk eyes. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” she asked kindly.

 

“They’re all here for Bill,” Mike said. “You can tell us all… I don’t… I don’t wanna have to repeat.”

She looked at everyone again before smiling and flipping a page on her clipboard. “Well, he survived surgery, but there were a lot of complications. We lost him on the table once, and we’re not out of the woods yet, unfortunately. He has eight broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken femur, head trauma to his frontal lobe, a dislocated shoulder, and a spinal injury.” Mike’s heart broke. “His lungs nearly collapsed mid-surgery, but we stabilized him. Our big concerns at this moment are the spinal injury and the brain trauma. He’ll likely be more irritable than usual if he wakes up, and only time will tell if he’ll recover fully mentally and physically. The spinal injury is quite severe, so walking may be a struggle in the future.”

 

_If._

 

_If._

 

_If he wakes up._

 

“If he wakes up?” Mike asked weakly. He felt his legs shake. Ben put a hand to his back, holding him up. “Is he gonna live?”

 

Dr. Dorian tilted her head sympathetically. “Like I said, we’re not sure. We did all we could, but his injuries are severe. Complications after surgery are common with these types of injuries. It could go either way.”

 

Mike was _sick_ of that phrase.

 

“Can I just see him now?”

 

“How many people can be in his room?” Richie asked.

 

Dr. Dorian tapped her pen against her clipboard.  “Well, he’s in a delicate condition right now, so I’d say only one or two people at once. Come on, this way.”

 

She led them in a different direction than to Bill’s operating room, but the hallways gave Mike the same uncomfortable feeling. Guilt, loss, death, anxiety. Knowing Bill had survived surgery barely alleviated any worries, especially as they were led through double doors under a large sign reading _ICU_.

 

Mike had expected it, he _knew_ Bill wasn’t doing well, he knew he’d be in the ICU, but seeing that the love of his life was on the brink of life and death _stung._

 

“He’s right in here,” Dr. Dorian said quietly. “One or two people for now, and the rest can wait out here or in the room you were just in.”

 

Mike turned to his friends. “Can I go in… alone?” he asked.

 

Everyone looked unhappy, but they all nodded. “Call one of us in if you need us,” Will whispered.

 

Mike walked into Bill’s room, and nearly fell down on the spot. Seeing Bill on that bed- hair half shaved, arms scraped up, face bruised, bandages covering most of his body- was by far the worst thing Mike had ever witnessed. It was worse than seeing Will’s fake body, worse than Will possessed, worse than the Demogorgon, worse than the Demodogs, worse than watching Steve get beat half to death by Billy Hargrove, worse than facing his own mortality at twelve when he jumped off a cliff. Bill was _strong_ . He was brave, and bright, and… he was supposed to be indestructible. But in the hospital, after a near fatal accident, he was human, he was fragile, he was _broken._

 

Mike dropped into the chair situated a Bill’s bedside and hesitantly reached up to link their hands as delicately as he could. Bill’s fingers were red and bruised, his knuckles scraped, and bandages were wrapped around nearly every fingertip. Mike swallowed thickly. “Hey, Bill,” he said. “I’m… I’m here now. I love you.”

 

Bill’s face remained still. Mike sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, when you crashed.” He dropped his head on the side of Bill’s bed with a soft _thud_ . “That’s stupid. I don’t know why I would’ve been there. I am sorry you had to be alone, though. Doc told me everything that’s wrong, and it’s… a lot.” Tears began to fall. “I’m so tired of crying,” Mike choked. “I’m so tired of not knowing.” He looked up through blurry eyes. “They keep saying it could go either way, you know. Everyone says that. _It could go either way._ I hate that. I just want… I just want to _know._ I want you to wake up, and to get better... but I also know you waking up means you’ll have to feel all this pain and I… I don’t want that for you.” Mike wiped his nose messily. The skin around his mouth was drying up from how many times he scrubbed at it. “I just want you to get better.”

 

They sat in silence for an indeterminate amount of time. It could have been two minutes, could have been five hours. Time was lost to Mike until Eddie knocked on the door. “Can we come see him?” he asked softly.

 

Mike squeezed Bill’s hand and stood up. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll leave so you can make your rounds.”

 

“You don’t have to le-” Eddie started, but Mike interrupted.

 

“I should give you all time with him. I’m not the only one who loves him.” Mike rested a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. “I should go… update my mom, anyway.” Eddie frowned, but let Mike walk away.

 

Mike barely made it into the bathroom before he broke down. Bill didn’t even look _alive_ in there. He was half dead on that bed, and Mike knew nothing would ever be the same for them. A small voice in the back of his mind said _it could go either way, but it looks like it won’t go the way you want,_ and Mike yelled out. The sound echoed through the empty stalls. “You can’t die,” he sobbed, gripping a sink with white knuckles. “You can’t die, you can’t die, _you can’t die!_ ” He ended with another yell. In the mirror stood a man with a shattered heart and bloodshot eyes. His lips were raw and red, his cheeks were stained with tears. His hair was a complete wreck. “He can’t die,” Mike told his reflection. “He can’t-” The words stuck in his throat. “He can’t- he can’t- _AGH_!” He bashed a fist against the sink. “He can’t die!”

 

The man in the mirror didn’t offer any condolence. Mike saw someone who had lost hope, someone grasping onto one last thread, one last plea that his love would make it. Mike saw a man who wanted his fiance to _live_ , but who saw his fiance knocking on death’s door. Mike saw a man afraid to accept the inevitable.

 

He didn’t end up calling his mother.

 

When Mike returned to Bill’s room, after splashing water on his face and trying to make himself at least a little presentable, his heart dropped. He was tired of his heart hurting.

 

Bill was gone.

 

 _Physically_ gone. As in, all his friends were clustered outside of Bill’s room, and Bill was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where’d he go?” Panic was evident in his voice. “Where the fuck did he go?!”

 

Ben walked toward Mike with his hands our placatingly, like a child walking up to a rabid dog. “Hey Mike, it’s alright,” he said soothingly. “He’s okay. He was ta-”

 

Mike stalked up to Ben and gripped his shoulders tightly. “Where the _fuck_ is he?” he gritted.

 

Beverly and Mike Hanlon started toward Mike and Ben, but Ben waved them off behind his back. “He was taken for a CT Scan. A nurse noticed that Bill’s leg was swelling a bit, and they wanted a closer look. He probably just sprained or tore something, and they can fix him up all right once they find out what’s wrong. It’s alright, Mike, he’s alright.”

 

Mike loosened his grip on Ben’s shoulders. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and let go. “I’m sorry, I…” He turned away. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey,” Ben smiled. “It’s okay. I understand, you were worried. You didn’t hurt me.”

 

Mike clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He was cracking.

 

“He should be back soon,” Mike Hanlon offered. “They took him just after we finished seeing him. I think he was just waking up, too.”

 

“Was he?” Mike asked in a whisper. “I hope he’s not in pain if he wakes up.”

 

“When he wakes up,” Stan interjected loudly. “When, Mike. He’s going to wake up.”

 

_He’s going to wake up._

 

Turns out Mike Hanlon was right, and Mike had only been back from his breakdown for about five minutes when Bill was wheeled back into his room.

 

Dr. Dorian stopped Mike for a moment before he dashed into Bill’s room. “He’s nearly fully conscious right now, so more people can be in the room with him,” she informed, “but keep your voices low, and don’t excite him too much. We should have the results in about an hour.”

 

Mike was the first one in the room, and he quickly claimed the spot closest to Bill. Richie, Stan, and Beverly lingered in the doorway. “We’ll give you two a moment,” Beverly whispered.

 

“Not too long of a moment though,” Richie interjected. “I wanna see Big Bill too.”

 

“Of course. I just want a minute.” Mike tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll call you in when he says he’s ready.”

 

The door closed heavily behind them. Bill whined quietly from his bed, and Mike whipped around to face him. “Hi darling,” he cooed. “Welcome back.”

 

“Mike?” Bill groaned. His left arm twitched, like he wanted to lift it, but it was laden with IV needles that didn’t allow much movement. “What happened?” His voice was groggy and slurred, but it was the most beautiful sound in the world to Mike.

 

“You had an accident,”  Mike said soothingly. “You were in surgery for… a long time, five or six hours I think, and you just got back from a scan. Your leg’s all swollen.”

 

Bill furrowed his brow, and his lower half shifted under the thin blanket. “It does kind of hurt. It feels… all hot and needley. Ow…” His face twisted up.

 

Mike worried his lip between his teeth. “Do you want me to call a nurse for something?”

 

Bill shifted his position, then sighed and sank into the bed. “No,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t hurt unless I focus on it real hard.”

 

“That’s good.” Mike wanted to hold Bill’s hand again. “How do you feel?"

 

“Like I just woke up from a really long nap.” Bill yawned. “Except I don’t think I could go to sleep even if I tried. I feel so tired, like, like I’m really high, but not good high. Like when you start to come down, and you’re all tired and grumpy.”

 

Mike snorted. “Are you feeling grumpy, baby?”

 

“Yes,” Bill snapped. There was heat to his words, and Mike was taken aback. Bill notice his slight jump, and frowned. “I’d be less grumpy if you held my hand.”

 

So Mike linked their left hands together. Bill immediately maneuvered the grip so he could fiddle with Mike’s engagement ring. “I love this ring,” Bill murmured, eyes transfixed on the stone. “Made me think of you the second I saw it. It would look really good with the wedding bands we picked out.” He sighed wistfully. “Wish we could get married.”

 

“Hey,” Mike objected. “We’re going to get married. That’s a promise, Bill.”

 

Bill looked unconvinced.

 

“ _Bill,_ ” Mike tried. “Bill, you’re getting through this. We’re getting married. You’re _awake_ baby, we’re getting through this.”

 

“Dr. Dorian told me it could go either way,” Bill breathed. “She said that when she was bringing me back here. I’m ‘delicate,’ and being awake doesn’t mean much.”

 

Before Mike could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by a harsh pounding.

 

“Jeez, Richie, you don’t have to be so loud, Bill was just in a fucking car crash!” Eddie’s voice hissed.

 

“Aw whatever Eds, I wanna see him,” Richie whined. “Hey Wheeler, Denbrough!” he said loudly. “You two in there banging?"

 

Bill giggled, but Mike groaned. “No, Rich, we’re not banging.” Mike turned to Bill. “Do you want them in here?” Bill nodded. “Alright Trashmouth, you guys can come in now.”

 

Richie, Eddie, Ben, and Stan poured in as one big blob of a human, with the other three following behind like normal people. “Bill!” Richie cheered. “Welcome to the land of the living!”

 

“Lay off him, Richie,” Eddie scolded. “I’m glad you’re awake, Billy. Had us real worried there for a while.”

 

“Yeah, it’s really good to see you.” Ben huffed a small laugh. “Seeing you is better than seeing the rest of this hospital.”

 

“Thanks you guys.” Bill smiled. “I like that you’re all here.”

 

“Of course we’re here, Bill,” Mike Hanlon said, voice full of warmth. “We love you.”

 

“We’re still worried about you,” Beverly smiled sadly. “You’ve been out for a while. Feels like _weeks_ ago that Will picked us all up.”

 

“Will picked you up?” Bill questioned.

 

“Yeah, he called me and Eds at like ten o’clock that you had been in an accident and he was on his way to take us all to the hospital. Shook us up real bad, you know,” Richie explained.

 

Bill frowned. “Why did _Will_ come and get you? No offense, man,” he directed at Will, “just that I would think that Mike would get a call and not you.”

 

“Oh, Mike got the call, and he called me. I figured it’d be best for me to get the others so he could get here faster.” Will smiled. “Didn’t think he had it in him to tell anyone else, anyway.”

 

They were trying to keep the atmosphere light; making little jokes, explaining things carefully, not being serious, but Mike could tell Bill was seeing through all their fronts. He knew how upset, how worried they all were. He knew how getting a call from a hospital while his life hung in the balance made Mike break down completely. He squeezed Mike’s hand, but didn’t comment.

 

“At least we’re all here,” Mike said.

 

“Yeah, in this tiny, hot, hospital room,” Richie complained. “Y’know Bill, next time you feel like nearly kicking it on us, get better insurance so you can get a nicer room.”

 

“Yeah, if there’s a next time I think I’ll have a heart attack,” Mike huffed. “Then we’d _really_ need better insurance to afford two hospital stays at once.”

 

“Let’s not joke about getting hurt more,” Eddie pleaded. “We can talk about something else? Please?”

 

“You know what Mike does when I can’t sleep?” Bill asked, a dopey smile on his face.

 

There was a faint “I don’t think I _want_ to know” from Stan. Beverly laughed.

 

Bill ignored them. “He tells me about our future. How many kids we’ll have, where we’ll live, what we’ll do on holidays.” Mike Hanlon and Ben _aww_ ed while Mike blushed. “He should do that now.”

 

“With everyone listening?” Mike coughed. “I thought this was a private kind of thing.”

 

“But I wanna hear about it,” Bill pouted. His eyes were watering, and Mike knew they weren’t teasing tears. Bill genuinely wanted to hear about a future- _their_ future- because Dr. Dorian had said he might not make it. He wanted one last telling, and Mike would be damned if he didn’t give Bill a good one.

 

“Tell the man a story, Mike, he’s got holes in his brain!” Richie exclaimed. “How many nieces and nephews are Eds and I gonna have?”

 

Mike sighed. “Alright.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened and locked them with Bill’s. “Well, Bill will publish his book, and it’ll be just the biggest success, and we’ll get tons of money from it for years and years, and there’ll be a book tour that takes us _allll_ across the country and we’ll stay in the nicest hotels and he’ll meet the nicest people! And then there’s gonna be a huge demand for a sequel, so he’ll focus on writing that once the tour is over and I’ll be working at one of those fancy STEM schools with my PhD., so we’ll be making so much money that we’ll get to live in a much nicer house and have the softest bed and shop at high end stores. Then, once we’re ready, we’ll look into adopting, and Nancy will obviously offer to surrogate, and Holly might even offer as well, depending on how long we wait, but we’ll want to adopt because we want a kid from the foster system to have a good life.”

 

By this point, tears left tracks down Bill’s face. Mike wiped them away before continuing. “We’ll find a nice agency and look into the right kid for us, and we’ll adopt a little boy whose parents died when he was a baby, and he’ll have the best life!”

 

Mike started to get caught up in the illusion. “Bill, he’s gonna be so happy with us! We’ll be firm but loving and we’ll talk to him about everything and teach him to be kind and help him with all his homework and for Career Day at school he’ll be so excited to take you in and all the teachers will be so starstruck because that’s _the_ Bill Denbrough and you’ll sign autographs and he’ll be so so happy.”

 

“And we adopt a little girl too, right?” Bill sniffed.

 

“Yeah, we do! Our son wants a little sister so we look into adopting a little girl and we find her and she’s a refugee and her parents died and she doesn’t have anyone to go to so we adopt her and our kids get along so well and they’re both so smart and grow up to be the kindest kids ever…” Mike paused to take a breath. He looked around and noticed that everyone around him was at least misty-eyed, though Eddie and Ben were both crying a little.

 

“What about us?” Richie asked. “Do your kids ever see us?”

 

“They love all their uncles and aunts,” Mike assured him. “Our son loves spending time with Uncle Mike in the kitchen, and loves playing at Uncle Eddie and Uncle Richie’s house with all their cats because we don’t have one because of our dogs. Our daughter loves her Aunts because she likes the feminine adult role model so her, Beverly, Nancy, and Holly have a monthly brunch where our daughter can feel like a grown lady, and you order her virgin mimosas and she comes home talking about how much she adores champagne because she feels so sophisticated.”

 

“She loves Uncle Ben and Stan and Will too,” Bill added. “She says that Ben is a lot like me and she feels safe with him.”

 

“She loves visiting El and Max and Dustin and Lucas too. Whenever El and Max are in town they join the brunch, and it’s our daughter’s favorite thing.”

 

“Our son really loves the library. He likes going with Will because Will knows where everything is.” Bill smiled.

 

“I bet he makes me take him to your books every time, right Bill?” Will guessed. “I have to remind him to be quiet every time we go because he just wants to show off his dad’s books.”

 

“And he goes and finds new recipes for us to try out,” Mike Hanlon added. “He checks out a million cookbooks and wants to make them all, but he asks his sister what sounds best and she chooses what we make.”

 

“And I try to help, but he always shoos me away, so I take your daughter outside and teach her about all the birds we see and she runs around the yard an spends up all her energy until it’s time for dinner,” Stan grinned. “She asks for a glass of our nicest Rosé and we give her strawberry lemonade in a wine glass.”

 

“Everything your son and Mike makes is delicious and there’s always leftovers so we drop them off at home with a bunch of tupperwares and they always make us go on and on about how good the food is, and then they make you heat it up and try some immediately,” Will contributed.

 

The atmosphere stayed happy and excited as they continued telling stories of a life they yearned to live. Their daughter ended up a Harvard graduate who founded an organization to help refugees around the world; their son became a world famous chef who sort of followed in Bill’s footsteps and published a dozen bestselling cookbooks over the years, donating most of the funds to his sister’s organizations. They both got married, had grandkids. Lived full, happy lives.

 

“We’ll be so much better than our dads, alright?” Mike said wetly. “Our kids are gonna be so happy.”

 

Eventually, Eddie and Richie left to go on a fast food run for everyone; Beverly was half asleep, so Ben took her to more comfortable seats outside of Bill’s room, and Mike Hanlon, Stan, and Will went outside to call Mike’s family, and tell El, Max, Dustin, and Lucas everything that was happening. Bill and Mike were left alone, and something was wrong.

 

Something was wrong, because every time Bill took a breath, his face screwed up in pain. Every time he shifted, even a little, his breath caught in his throat and he visibly winced. Mike could tell he was in pain, but knew there wasn’t much he could do. Painkillers would knock Bill out, so when Mike offered to call a nurse, Bill refuted, saying, “I don’t want to pass out again. I wanna be awake with you, for as long as we have.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Mike begged. “Please, don’t say that.”

 

“You know it’s true, Mike. It could go either way, and based on how my whole body is _burning_ right now, I’d say I’m not sure how long I’ll make it.” He closed his eyes. “Feels like my body’s wired all wrong, like I’m supposed to be okay but everything got scrambled and cut up. Every time I move my leg even a little, it’s like the fucking world is ending. It feels all hot and throbby and heavy and it keeps getting harder to breathe, Mike. I don’t know… how much time I have.”

 

Mike’s heart _shattered._

 

If Bill died, he didn’t know what he’d do. He didn’t know who he’d be. Without Bill, Mike would lose _everything._ Bill was the one who pushed him to further his schooling, to go for another degree. Bill was the one who calmed him down after bad dreams, who assured him that everything was fine, that everyone was okay. Bill was the one who loved Mike unconditionally, unfalteringly. He was who made Mike feel _whole_. Losing Bill would mean losing a piece of himself.

 

“If I die here, don’t be too sad,” Bill pleaded. “Don’t cry over me forever. Move on. Meet someone else. Talk to your mom, and to Nancy. Talk to my parents, while you’re at it. Let them know they have _two_ dead sons instead of just one.”

 

“Stop,” Mike tried.

 

“Make sure all our friends know how much I love them. Tell Richie and Eddie that I will always support them and that I’m sorry I can’t be godfather to their kids, and tell Ben and Bev that I’m so happy they found each other, and tell Mike and Stan and Will that they shouldn't worry about anything anyone has to say about them because they love each other and that’s enough.”

 

“Stop!”

 

“And tell my agent that I’m really sorry I didn’t quite finish the book, but I have it all planned out so someone can do it for me because I’m really proud of it and I want tha story out there, and-”

 

“ _Stop!_ ” Mike cried. “I can’t listen to you telling me everything you want me to do after you _die_ but you’re still _alive right here!_ You’re still here! Can’t we just enjoy this time?!”

 

The room sat in silence for so long it was like Bill was already dead.

 

Then Bill spoke quietly. “It’s just… I really don’t want to die.” His eyes were squeezed shut, and tears leaked out. “I want to live our future, write books, have dogs and great kids. I wanna be _married_ to you, Mike. I want our wedding, I want our future, and I’m so scared I won’t get it. It’s harder to breathe, and I don’t wanna spend my last moments on drugs, so all that’s left is our stories.”

 

“I promised you we’d get married,” Mike said glumly. “I promised. I’m sorry.”

 

Bill sniffled. “I want to be married to you… that’s all I want right now, Mike, everything hurts and I just wanna be married I should have proposed sooner, so we could be married _right now_.”

 

And Mike got an idea. _I promised you we’d get married._ He squeezed Bill’s hand and said, “How do you feel about getting married right here? Right now? I could send Will to get our rings, I’m sure I could find someone who’s ordained who could marry us. Do you wanna? Right now?”

 

Bill’s smile was small, barely visible, but Mike recognized the glint in his eyes. “Yes please,” Bill rasped. “I’d like that.”

 

So Mike kissed him, on the corner of his mouth, and smiled his first real smile in _hours._ “I’ll go talk to Will, and I’ll be right back. This is happening. I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Bill said softly, and with that, Mike dashed off.

 

Will and Stan were getting water at the nurse’s station a little ways down the hall, and Mike skidded to a stop in front of Will. “Okay, I know this is kind of crazy, but Bill wants to get married right now and I do too and we already picked out our rings and they’re at our house in my bedside table middle drawer and it’s two little black boxes and I really need you to run and get them while I try to find someone to marry us.”

 

Stan beamed. “I’ll tell the others, you two focus on rings.” Mike nodded.

 

Will nearly dropped his water cup. “Seriously?” he asked incredulously, but he was smiling too. Mike nodded. “Of course I’ll go, do you want anything else?”

 

“No, just the rings. I’m gonna-” Mike let out a giddy breath. “I’m gonna talk to the others, find someone ordained, and we’ll just need the rings, and then we can-”

 

Dr Dorian cut in. She held her clipboard with a tight grip. “Mr. Wheeler?” she said softly. “CT Scan results came in. Come with me.”

 

She lead him to a quieter corner of the ICU and said, “The results aren’t good. We expected he tore a hamstring, and that, we could’ve fixed. Instead, I’m afraid he has a large blood clot in his upper calf. There are treatments for blood clots, but due to his delicate condition, anything we would use to treat the clot would lead to a myriad of other problems that would put him in more pain. At this point, the best thing to do is make him as comfortable as possible until he passes. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

 

The world spun. Mike wanted- he wanted a lot of things. He wanted to sit down, to not feel so nauseous. He wanted the world to stop moving like that, he wanted the floor to stay still, and he _really fucking wanted Bill to survive_. It was too late for that.

 

Dr. Dorian patted his arm and walked away, heading toward Bill’s room. Seconds later, Will ran to Mike’s side and eased him to the ground to sit. “What did she say? Mike?” He shook Mike lightly. “What did she say?!”

 

“There’s nothing else they can do.” Mike’s voice was faint, weak, trembling. “It’s just…” His words caught in his throat. “It’s just a matter of time now. Bill’s going to die.”

 

Will jerked his hands away from Mike to grip his own head. “Oh God,” he muttered. “Oh God, oh no, oh _shit,_ are they- are they sure? Do they know they’re sure?

 

“They’re sure,” Mike whimpered. “Big blood clot. He’s gonna... go. Soon.”

 

Will dragged a hand roughly down his face. “Do you still want me to go get the rings?”

 

And then it struck Mike with full force. It being the cold realization that-

 

_There wasn’t enough time to get the rings._

 

“There isn’t enough time,” he choked, and began to cry. “He could be gone by the time you get back.”

 

“Well what are we gonna do? You two have to get married, right? That’s what he wanted!” Will said frantically.

 

“We don’t have any rings, Will!” Mike snapped, stood up. “We need _rings_ if we want to get _married_ and I don't see any rings just fucking laying around!” He wiped his eyes.

 

“Hey hey hey, no need to yell,” Richie said, approaching the pair. “What’s up, why are we all in a corner? I thought Stan the Man mentioned a wedding?”

 

“Weddings off,” Mike growled, hitting a fist against the wall. “Dr. Dorian said… she said Bill’s got a huge blood clot and he doesn’t have much time left. There’s not enough time to go get rings, or find someone to marry us, or to do _anything_ but wait!”

 

There was a long pause.

 

Richie paled. “What?”

 

“Dr. Dorian said his leg has this massive clot in it.” Mike waved his hands around haphazardly. “There’s nothing they can do. She said that any treatments they tried would put him in more pain until he fucking _died_ in loads of fucking _pain_ because the stupid accident got him so fucked up that they can’t do anything! She said that the best thing to do is just make him as comfortable as we can until he dies anyway!”

 

The others walked over to Mike during his outburst. By the looks on all their faces, they heard everything. Beverly was already crying, Eddie had grasped Richie’s arm, and they were holding each other tightly. Ben had hunched into himself, and Stan and Mike Hanlon held hands. All Mike could think was, _Bill is alone, and I’m going to have to tell him we can’t get married._

 

“Wedding’s off,” he repeated hoarsely. “We don’t… we don’t have time to find anything.”

 

Richie and Eddie shared a long look, before Richie spoke. “I want you two to be happy,” he started. “I love Bill, I love you both, and you deserve a wedding. You deserve to be married.” He and Eddie looked at each other again, before Eddie released his hold on Richie’s arm, and they each pulled off their wedding bands.

 

“You can use our rings,” Eddie said. They held them out.

 

Mike cried harder. “Are you sure?”

 

Eddie smiled softly, sadly. “Of course we’re sure. We want you to have this.”

 

Mike reached out with shaking fingers to take the rings.

 

“They might not fit; I’ve got fucking sausage fingers, and Eds has the world's tiniest hands,” Richie said, wetly, “but they should work.”

 

“It’s perfect.” Mike couldn’t express his gratitude. “Thank you. I- We owe you a lot.”

 

“Go tell him,” Eddie encouraged. “We’ll find someone ordained. This is going to happen.”

 

Mike nodded, wiped his face roughly, and headed back to Bill’s room, but stopped short. Dr. Dorian was talking to Bill, likely giving him details of his condition, his impending death, giving him all the options. Even through the blinds in the window, Mike could see Bill crying. He wished he could go in, but the door was shut and he didn’t want to invade, so he was resigned to watching from outside.

 

Eventually, Bill calmed down, and grew serious. Dr. Dorian pulled out her pager and typed something in. A few minutes later, a tall man in a suit shouldered past Mike and knocked on the door.

 

“Can I come in too?” Mike tried, but Dr. Dorian made swift eye contact and shook her head. The door was slammed in his face.

 

The man pulled out a paper, and a clipboard, and explained something at length to Bill, who nodded and grew visibly sadder the whole time. Mike itched to hold him. Instead, he watched curiously as Bill spoke and Dr. Dorian scribbled on the paper, until Bill, with an unsteady hand, signed the bottom. Dr. Dorian seemed sad, but the man appeared indifferent. Mike figured he was a hospital lawyer, or part of a legal department.

 

When the left the room, Bill stared at the door, dazed. Mike stepped in. “What was that all about? What were those papers?”

 

“Just insurance stuff,” Bill said quietly. “Nothing important.”

 

Mike frowned. “I already filled out insurance papers, I thought.” He shrugged. “Do I need to go sign anything? Should I have been here?”

 

Bill shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” His left arm twitched. “Did Dr. Dorian… did she tell you… what’s happening?”

 

Mike bit his lip. “She did,” he whispered. He didn’t know how to react in front of Bill. What he _wanted_ to do was break down and cry and scream, but Bill would want to comfort him, and would be heartbroken when he couldn’t.

 

“So… Will can’t go get the rings,” Bill started. Mike’s throat closed up when he noticed tears in Bill’s eyes. “I guess we can’t get married?”

 

“Actually...” Mike fumbled in his pocket. “We still can.” He held up Richie and Eddie’s rings.

 

Bill gasped. “Are those _ours?!_ ”

 

Mike scooted closer to the bed and placed the rings in Bill’s hands. “No, but they’re Richie and Eddie’s. They’re letting us borrow them.”

 

Even with his face scraped and bruised, with his hair half shaved and half matted, his face sweaty, his eyes red and puffy, his trembling... even with all of that, Bill was the most beautiful being Mike had ever seen. And when they made eye contact, glossy eyes meeting with a great ferocity, Mike knew Bill thought the same of him. “We’re getting married, Mike.”

 

Mike stroked his thumb across Bill’s wrist. “Hell yeah we are.”

 

Will knocked gently on the door, and poked his head in. “We’re all ready out here,” he said. “Are you two ready to be married?”

 

Bill grinned. “We are.”

 

“Come in everyone,” Will said softly to everyone behind him, and suddenly the room was flooded with people.

 

Richie and Eddie were the first to come in, after Will, and both had tucked in their shirts, washed their faces, and Richie’s hair was styled with a type of care only Eddie could possess. They looked amazing, given the circumstances. Beverly, Mike Hanlon, and Stan followed them, obviously having cleaned up as well. Beverly had her hair pulled up in an intricate bun, Mike Hanlon’s eyes were twinkling, and Stan had a pen with a flower on its end in his shirt pocket. “I borrowed it from the nurses,” he explained.

 

Ben was the last to walk in. He had, somehow, changed outfits completely. Gone were his ruffled clothes from the day before; they were replaced with a pressed black button up and loose black trousers. He was flanked by two nurses, each holding bouquets of roses and peonies that Mike vaguely remembered seeing in the lobby.

 

“Wow,” Mike beamed. “You all look- incredible.”

 

Richie snorted. “Can’t say the same about y- _ow,_ Eds!” Eddie elbowed him in the side.

 

“You look great as well,” Eddie said apologetically. “Practically glowing, the both of you.”

 

“Thanks, Eddie,” Mike said. “But who’s gonna marry us? Could you not find someone?”

  
Ben stepped up shyly. “Uh, Bill kind of asked me to be the minister at your wedding, well I mean he asked all of us to think about it, but I really wanted to do it, so I went ahead and got ordained a few weeks ago, so uh. Tada!” He chuckled. “I’m marrying you two.”

 

“Ben, you sap,” Bill sniffled. “I love you. I’m glad it’s you.”

 

The nurses handed their bouquets to Beverly and Stan. “We can’t stay,” one said, “but congratulations, you two.”

 

The door clicked shut behind them, and then, there were nine people left in the room. “So,” Will clapped quietly. “Should we get on with it, then? No time to lose right?”

 

A morose air fell over everyone. Will looked like he regretted ever opening his mouth.

 

Mike Hanlon cleared his throat. “So how do you wanna do this? Should one of us take the rings and give them to you later, or do you wanna hang on to them?”

 

It hit Mike that he kind of didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. “Uhh,” he started. “I guess we can hold onto them and Ben can like, do his thing now? We’re ready to be married.”

 

“If you’re ready, then we’ll start,” Beverly said warmly. Mike appreciated how she still smiled and still held onto her bright aura even in the face of losing a best friend. She probably didn’t know, but she was holding Mike together.

 

“So I’ll just…” Ben walked forwards until he stood behind Bill’s bed and Mike’s chair. “I’ll stand here. Do you wanna sit or stand? It would be easier if you sat, because you’re the same height then, so Mike you don’t have to move. You don’t either Bill, it’s fine.” Ben was obviously nervous, and wiped his hands down the sides of his shirt.

 

“Ben,” Beverly prompted quietly, kindly, and he nodded back at her. Tension melted from his shoulders.

 

“Ready?” Mike and Bill nodded. “Alright.” Ben closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them as his face hardened to concentration. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two men in holy matrimony, which in an honorable estate and is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and respectfully. If anyone thinks these two should not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Ben looked up exaggeratedly, waiting for someone to protest. Richie huffed a laugh, and Ben continued. “Marriage is a sacred union between husbands and shall remain unbroken. It is the basis of a stable and loving relationship and is a joining of two hearts, bodies and souls. The husbands are there to support one another and provide love and care in times of joy and times of adversity. Now, do you have your own vows to read?”

 

“Yes,” Bill said, before Mike could even think about what he’d say. “I’ll go first.” He grabbed Mike’s hands and squeezed, took a deep breath, and spoke. “You’re my best friend. Sorry to everyone else here, but Mike, you’re my best friend. I told you when I proposed that I want you forever, forever and always, through the good and the bad and the ugly, and I still want that. I love you more than anything, being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I have been nothing but happy and content for all the years we’ve been together, all the years we’ve known each other. I'll love you forever and always, please just remember, even if I'm not there. I'll always love you. Forever and always, Mike.” 

 

If Mike or Bill had been able to pull their eyes from one another, they would have seen the way their friends cried, the way Eddie buried his face in Richie’s shoulder, the way Will clutched at Mike Hanlon and Stan, the way Beverly had her arms wrapped around herself, leaning against Mike Hanlon, the way Ben was viciously rubbing at his eyes so he could continue.

 

“Do you, Bill Denbrough, take this man, Michael Wheeler, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do,” Bill said confidently, but his breath caught in his throat, and a tear slid from Mike’s eye.

 

“Mike, it’s your turn,” Ben said.

 

Mike gulped. “Bill Denbrough, you are all I ever wanted. Meeting you, falling in love with you, growing with you, becoming an adult with you… I can never thank you enough for shaping me into the man I am today. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else- it’s you, it’s always you, it always will be you. I want you forever and always, too. Through the good and the bad and the ugly, and we'll grow old together, and always remember, whether we’re happy or sad, we'll still love each other. Forever and always. You’re my guy, my light, I’d wait for you forever. You’re my everything.”

 

This time, Mike and Bill did look around, and they did notice how everyone was crying, but they didn’t say anything, because they were both crying as well.

 

Bill’s heart monitor slowed imperceptibly.

 

“Do you, Michael Wheeler, take this man, Bill Denbrough, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do,” Mike said, no hesitation. They were almost there.

 

Bill struggled to breathe right.

 

“The rings, please.” Mike handed Ben the rings.

 

“Okay Bill, repeat after me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Bill rasped. His voice was heartwrenchingly low and croaky.

 

Ben handed Bill Richie’s ring. “Put this on Mike and say, ‘with this ring, I wed thee.’”

 

With weak and trembling hands, Bill slid the ring onto Mike’s left hand, and said, with all the effort he could muster, “With this ring, I wed thee.”

 

His arms fell limply to his side. The heart monitor was increasingly slow. Eddie and Richie had sunk to their knees, sobbing. Bill’s eyes were closed, his chest barely moving, his face burning.  A panic unlike anything Mike had ever felt blossomed in his chest. He realized that, even though he knew there was nothing doctors could do, he wasn’t ready to let Bill go.

 

“Keep going,” he told Ben frantically. “Keep going! Give me the ring.”

 

“I- okay.” Mike snatched the ring from Ben’s hand. “Repeat after me. With this ring, I wed thee.”

 

“With this ring, I wed thee,” Mike basically yelled, jamming Eddie’s ring onto Bill’s finger. “Pronounce us!”

 

“You may now kiss the groom!” Ben squeaked.

 

Mike shoved his mouth against Bill’s, feeling soft, weak, damp puffs of air coming out of his mouth far too infrequently. The heart monitor was as slow as it could get.

 

As they kissed, Ben frantically repeated, “I now pronounce you man and husband, I now pronounce you man and husband, I now pronounce you-”

 

Then they separated, and Mike tuned him out, and Bill opened his mouth. His eyes were still closed.  

 

“I’ll get to see Georgie again…” he said faintly, with a smile, and squeezed Mike’s hand one last time. He blinked his eyes open once. “I love you.” Then, they closed, and his chest stilled.

 

_Beeeeeeeeeeeep._

 

Mike screamed. “ _No!_ You can’t see Georgie we just got _married_ Bill we’re married now just like I promised! We’re married now Bill you have to wake up come on Bill stop this we’re married! You said forever and always-”  Dr. Dorian and a handful of nurses swarmed in, and Ben began pulling Mike out of the room, crying about letting them help Bill, but Mike wasn’t listening. “Get _off of me, Ben-_ ” Mike wrenched out of his grip and stumbled back to Bill’s side.  “You said forever! Come back!” Richie and Ben pried his hands off Bill’s bed and carried him out of the room. All the while, Mike screamed, “Let me _go, let me go let me go!_ ”

 

They didn’t let go.

 

When Mike was put down and the door the Bill’s room was closed, he slammed his body against the window. Inside, he expected to see a crash cart, defibrillator, _something_ to show that they were trying to bring Bill back, but all the nurses were doing was pulling IVs out of Bill’s arms and clearing out his room. Dr. Dorian looked up and noticed Mike. She sighed sadly, and slipped outside.

 

“Why aren’t you saving him?” Mike demanded. “Why isn’t _someone_ fucking _doing something?!_ ”

 

“He signed a DNR, a do not resuscitate order. Legally, there’s nothing we can do.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mike.”

 

A nurse, one of the two who brought them flowers, stuck her head out the door. “Dr. Dorian, you need to call it.”

 

Dr. Dorian walked back into the room, and through the rushing white noise of panic clouding Mike’s ears, he heard, “Time of death, 12:11 pm, March 23rd.”

 

Then the nurses pulled a white sheet over Bill’s head.

 

The world fell out from under Mike.

 

And nobody was there to catch him.

  


**Author's Note:**

> :-) im so glad i got to kill bill it was like a dream come true :'''')
> 
> s/o to my beta PAIGE for saving my mf life, once again, what a queen...
> 
> comments??? make my whole Life i do not kid... please


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